When I was growing up, school always started in early September, followed by a “Clean Up, Paint Up, Fix Up” week in which we and our families were urged to clean out unneeded “stuff,” and give our homes and yards a tune-up and face lift.
Maybe that’s why my mind always turns to de-cluttering and freshening up this time of the year.
So I I go on a de-cluttering rampage. This year it is even more serious than ever. Too much “stuff” equals too much stress. I firmly believe we are energetically connected to our stuff and having too much stuff is exhausting.
Here’s the reasoning behind this year’s rampage: In the past few years, I’ve not only disposed of both parents’ earthly belongings, but also my brother’s, my sister’s and those of a couple of close friends. I have sadly become an expert.
During those painful processes, I confess to more than one snarky comment along the lines of “Why the heck did he/she keep this?”
There were my Dad’s pocket diaries (appointments only) from the 1950s, my Mom’s endless collection of old Time magazines and my brother’s self-confessed “terrible” angsty teenage poetry.
Yes, there was Dad’s tank driver’s license and letters home from World War II and my Mom’s and brother’s collections of never-before-seen family photos, my grandmother’s hand carved wooden figures, a Christmas ornament or two from my friend. These are treasures that should be passed down between generations. But take a look—none of these things are bulky and they really don’t take up much space.
Along the way, I actually became something of an organizing expert. It started with Dad’s house. There were only three choices that my siblings and I had because we were under time pressure and I was running the show from 500 miles away:
- Keep it and move it out today
- Donate it
- Trash or recycle it
After being the agent of disposing of others’ things, it’s impossible not to think of who might someday be tasked with getting rid of my “stuff.” What a horrifying thought!
Why should anyone have to dispose of those half-burned candles in the dining room cabinet or the years of utility bills or the files from book projects decades past or the numerous balls of yarn squirrelled away with the thought I might someday learn to knit?
A friend recommended a little decluttering life book by Joshua Becker called Simplify.
That got me rocking.
You probably know most of what Becker says. It’s all common sense. It all boils down to a simple concept: If you need it or love it, keep it. Otherwise, say goodbye. Then, of course, there is Marie Kondo. And no, Marie, I am not limiting the number of books I own.
So the rampage of 2022 began. Do I really need 15 wooden spoons in my kitchen or six black shirts? No. Do I really love that power corkscrew someone gave me five Christmases ago? No. Do I really love the painting my cousin gave me last Christmas and the book of Maya Angelou’s poetry? Absolutely!
I am not going to become a minimalist. I don’t need to survive on two pairs of shoes and four shirts and two pairs of pants.
I love it the idea that if you love books or teaspoons, by all means, keep them. Just make the choices about these things. I’m not getting rid of all my books or my Grandma’s mantel clock or the platter I bought in Tuscany.
And yes, I do love Marie Kondo and have followed a great deal of her advice, but I do take deep exception to her pronouncements about clearing out books, which are sacred in my mind.
I’m pacing myself. As my old hero the Fly Lady recommends, go for a drawer a day. She also recommends going through the house with a garbage bag on Day One and putting at least 20 items in it, then immediately taking those 20 items to a thrift store. No fair tucking them somewhere in the garage to deal with later.
At my current pace, that means that my house will be about halfway de-cluttered when the family arrives for the holidays. That’s OK. It’s a marathon and we will be permanently ridding ourselves of stuff we don’t love or need, so it’s worth the time.
A big de-cluttering opportunity arose when the weather turned unseasonably cold and local shelters put out a call for coats and hats and scarves for homeless and needy families. How could I have possibly have accumulated 30 or maybe even 40 coats and jackets? Now I have ten (more than enough) and needy people will be warm. Plus, the coat closet has space for guests’ coats and I can take a sigh of relief when I open the closet door.
I know, clutter will probably creep up on me again. Although this year’s massive de-cluttering is making me feel so good, maybe it won’t. We have agreed on a new house rule: For anything non-consumable (toilet paper and food don’t count) that comes in, at least one thing must go out. That should help keep us in check and will be a big favor to our kids when we have shuffled off this Earthly plane.
Want more articles on decluttering? Here you go!
I have started “The Swedish Death March”. Gotta love the Swedes. Analytical to a fault. It’s a concept that you rid yourself of your earthly belongings before you die so that those still living won’t have a horror show to go through and have to decide what to do with it all.
Sounded scary when I first read about it, but it makes sense. Younger people growing up these days are more vagabond-ish than previous generations. They don’t want all the family heirlooms, the antiques, the china sets. They move more often and don’t want to be weighed down by the mementos of past generations, nor do they have anywhere to put things in the smaller living spaces that so many can barely afford.
So, I started my march. First, observing the objects with the horror of someone finding them when I’m gone. Yeah, that stuff has to go….then there’s all the things I consider near and dear to my heart. They don’t have to go just yet, but I look at them, knowing they won’t be near OR dear to anyone else.
I also have to recognize that I have The Hoarder Gene lurking in my DNA. My mother is a hoarder, a sister is a hoarder. My other sister and I are just plain messy and my brother swung the full opposite, living an austere lifestyle devoid of visible mementos, a fate I do not wish. I like my quirky belongings, but the overflow has got to go.
I’ve noticed a sense of clearing, a lightness to the house that is taking over as I throw away my baggage from the past. Rid myself of the hurts, the slights, the anger and pain that all these things keep alive inside of me just by their existence in my space. I find myself able to breathe deeper breaths, to look at my surroundings and notice it’s less dingy feeling, brighter…
Adieu……Another box awaits my attention……